


Incoming

by Kaiyoz



Series: ...And James Makes Three [6]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), X-Men (Comicverse)
Genre: AU, Bopping Feels, Combining X-men (my first love) with Avengers, Crossover, Gen, M/M, mild violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-06
Updated: 2014-02-01
Packaged: 2018-01-07 15:57:01
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 8,198
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1121760
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kaiyoz/pseuds/Kaiyoz
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The family comes under attack.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

“INCOMING!” Jarvis alerted frantically over the home intercom. Steve was on his feet and grabbing James from where he laid coloring on the floor. He pulled James to his chest and held him close. 

Before his ears could register the explosion part of the room and its contents were suddenly flying away. 

The windows exploded with the concussive blast and part of the room was ripped away. The blast knocked him to the floor, sending him skidding across the living room floor. 

“Jarvis, what is happening?” Steve said, holding an oddly quiet James to his chest. He looked out at what once had been their living room. Left behind were scorch marks, highlighted by missing windows and furniture. The balcony was torn off; whoever had attacked had been aiming for that. 

“I am assessing,” Jarvis answered. 

“James, are you okay?” Steve asked looking down at the boy. They were pinned in the corner of the living room. They could hear churning rotors just around the corner. 

He was shaky but mustered up a hesitant nod. “’M okay, Poppa. Are we… alive?”

“We’re okay,” Steve answered. “Jarvis? Where’s the team?”

“Sir is arming himself and asking after you both. Dr. Banner is trying to hold off the transformation. Agents Romanoff, Barton, and Coulson are arming themselves and ascending to your location. Thor is with Doctor Foster in… More incoming. Believed target, the first floor.”

The building shuddered as the missiles hit, Steve could only imagine the damage. “Helicopters armed and approaching, Captain. More missiles en route.”

Steve watched as helicopters approached, he huddled further from view. He couldn’t fight and protect his child. 

“Is James’ room compromised?”

“The room is holding but the air lock is compromised. It is not airtight. Traversing the stairs toward it at this point would be perilous at best,” Jarvis answered. “Sir is on his way up.”

Cap threw himself backwards as the room erupted in gunfire, he could hear the faint whine of Iron Man’s repulsors and the sound of military grade ammunition bouncing off of titanium-gold alloy.

“Poppa?” James asked, tightening his hold. “I’m scared.”

Steve kissed James on his head and buried his nearly four year old in his arms. “Love you, bubba. We’ll be fine.” He patted the boy on his bottom and held him even tighter. 

Hawkeye pushed the door open and gunfire erupted again, he took a step back and flung Steve’s shield towards him, Steve caught it one handed and held it over James. 

Iron Man’s voice suddenly drifted over the intercom. “Damn it. Cap… they’re not letting me approach your location.”

“They’re not letting Hawkeye in either. Draw them off?”

“Negative, they won’t pull away. I’ve taken down two birds but the others are holding me away from their main gun ship. They know I won’t knock their birds into the tower. Damn… Sh…it…” Iron Man cursed over the line, cutting off.

Captain America held his shield over his young son and sent up a small prayer. “Where’s Daddy?” James whispered. 

Before he could answer, the building rocked again. “The roof is compromised,” Jarvis informed them.

“Daddy!?” James panicked.

“He’s fine,” Cap answered automatically. 

He could hear Iron Man’s panting breaths across the speakers. “I’m okay, J-baby. Get down the stairs on my mark, I’m going to distract them.”

“Mark!” Iron Man shouted, Steve ran as firepower erupted outside the tower. He landed on the stairs, nearly stumbling into Clint. They raced down the stairs together but two flights down they realized the west stairwell had gone down. Two flights of stairs were collapsed, there was a hole in the wall and Steve stared dizzyingly out across the cityscape. They were really high up. 

Clint turned, slid down the wall on his belly, before hanging by his arms and dropping the next fifteen feet without hesitation and landed in a crouch. 

“We gotta go now, Cap. If one of the birds circle, they’ll see us. Drop.” As if on cue the building shuddered again. 

He shook his head. “Negative. James can’t hold on well enough and I can’t climb and hold him. I don’t want the floor to collapse with a straight jump. I’ll drop him to you.” He peeled James off of himself and held the boy away from him.

“No! Poppa!” James screeched, kicking to try to reach back to his father. “Don’t drop me!”

“It’s just like when Uncle Thor tosses you, Uncle Clint’s going to catch you this time,” Steve reassured him, holding the boy over the ledge. 

The boy kicked again, trying to get back to his poppa. 

Steve turned on his Captain America voice looking sternly at his son. “Go straight right now. You’re going to fall, and if you kick, Uncle Clint might not catch you. Straight! Now!” he ordered. James relaxed and Steve let go, dropping him into Clint’s arms. 

James squeaked but wrapped Clint in a bear hug, hanging on doggedly as the archer took off running again, the Captain dropped down a few seconds later and caught up with Hawkeye. 

“I’m in!” he heard Iron Man pant, Tony stumbled inside, one gauntlet missing and obviously struggling. “Everyone okay?” 

“Fine, Iron Man. Anyone have eyes on these guys? Who are they and what do they want?” 

Coulson’s voice came over the line then. “Sources say it’s the Mandarin. He must’ve infiltrated through SHIELD and Jarvis’ scans, our alerts didn’t come up.” 

“Why did I interfere in China?” Tony muttered to himself. 

Captain America heard the thud of armor piercing rounds hitting the walls and windows around the apartment. 

Iron Man picked up James and held him, one bare hand cupping the boy’s face. He looked down in horror at his son’s Hulk shirt, splashed with blood. “Where are you hurt, J-baby?”

“No, Daddy. Poppa is.”

The blonde turned guiltily towards Tony, his right arm was nicked and bleeding sluggishly. “Shit, Steve.”

“I’m fine, there was some shrapnel… just a flesh wound,” he added with a grin.

Iron Man got the message, no need to scare their son.

Clint came over the com as he observed the scene below them. “Hulk is loose and pretty ineffective against these targets. Too many more are showing… oh, shit. Is that freaking Godzilla? Something just came OUT of the freaking river.”

“Avengers need to deploy full tilt now,” Coulson ordered. “Team, give Iron Man and the Captain time to secure their package. Draw fire away from the tower.”

Cap and Iron Man dropped their personas for a second and looked at each other as Tony and Steve, James’ fathers. Steve gave Tony a tight nod. 

“Jarvis, bring online my Blasting Baby Boy, code India snickerdoodle Romeo,” Tony began. “Override Jarvis code, bring on Edwin.”

A younger voice, but no less British came over the line. “Online, sir. Edwin is running. Deploying Blasting Baby Boy.”

“James show me your best jumping jack,” Steve asked his son, crouching down with the boy on the floor. He held a hand to his still bleeding arm and tried to put on his bravest face. He had trained James to pose as a jumping jack whenever he needed, and that training was coming into use. 

The little boy was almost Pavlovian when he struck the pose, there was a faint whine and suddenly James lower body was covered in armor, so much like Tony’s but dark blue. 

“Daddy!?! Poppa?!?” James squealed, suddenly panicked. “What?”

“It’s okay, James,” Tony cooed, his faceplate up. “This is armor just like mine. You’ll be safe in it.” 

Tony placed the upper armor around James’ chest and slipped on his gauntlets. He kept on his brave face, trying not to show his utter terror. He caught the helmet in one hand and tried not to scream when Steve gave James a kiss goodbye. 

“Edwin, pull off of Jarvis, take your own code online, engage Blasting Baby Boy.” Tony ordered. 

“As you wish, sir.”

The armor around James began to come to life, humming and sealing tight. 

“We’re going to send you to be safe,” Tony said to the boy, holding out the hand that had lost the gauntlet, stoking his child’s face. The building shuddered again.

“No, Daddy!” James cried, his face filling with fear. “No, Poppa!” 

He begged, turning clumsily towards his Poppa. “Don’t make me… I want to stay… with you.”

“This isn’t a safe place. We will come get you, as soon as we’re safe again,” Steve half-yelled over the noise the fighting team was making. 

“No, Dada! Please! No…” he sobbed, balking when Tony tried to put on his helmet. Steve stepped behind and held him firmly as Tony slid the helmet on, and it engaged. 

“Be brave for me? Can you do that?” Steve asked, looking beneath the raised faceplate. “We will come for you… Just be my brave little boy.”

James bottom lip was trembling and his nose was running but he nodded. Tony kissed his fingers and pressed them to James’ lips. 

“We love you, J-baby. We will come get you as soon as we can. Do what they say there. This is Edwin, he’s like Jarvis. He’ll take you safely to where you need to go. You’re smart, use your brain. I love you so much James. ”

Steve picked up the little boy, armor and all and hugged him. “Dada!” James said one last time as Steve pushed the faceplate down. 

“Edwin, on Cap’s mark, engage retro reflectors and get our boy out of here. Seal up his flight plan,” Tony commanded, pushing down his own faceplate. He shot out into the sky, drawing fire towards himself and zipping away. 

Steve looked down at his little boy and waited for the air to clear. James would have one shot to get clear of the tower. He saw the stars begin to align. 

“Mark!” he shouted, knowing Edwin would hear him. The suits thrusters came to life and James’ suit shot into the sky, becoming nearly invisible instantly as it peeled away from the tower. He was out of eyesight and Steve raised his shield. The ones that had forced him to abandon his child and destroyed their home would pay. 

He waited for a helicopter to bank in too close and he leapt, hauling himself inside. 

**

James nearly shouted when the thrusters beneath his feet engaged and suddenly he was soaring away, in only a way he had seen with Daddy or Uncle Thor. 

He read his screen, they were going South West. According to his display there were no “bad guys” with him. His body felt packed in as they soared straight and fast. The times he had gone flying with Thor or Daddy he was always holding onto them, they went slower, and dipped and swerved through the sky. 

He tried moving his arms and legs but they were locked straight. 

“Edwin? Can I move my legs?”

“Not at this point, sir,” Edwin told him, his voice sounded a bit like Jarvis but it unnerved him to have a “new” person in charge. “Moving your body parts can only be engaged for evasive maneuvers. Those could send you off course.”

James was anxious as they soared past plains and forests. He nodded off for only a moment before he felt the suit beginning to descend. 

“On approach to your destination, sir,” Edwin told him. “Prepare for landing. On your command, the flight suit will fold away into a large box. You need only kick it to reengage the suit.”

“Where are we Jar… Edwin?” 

“Just outside of Harrisburg, Pennsylvania, sir, almost 200 miles from New York.” They descended and plunked down, landing in a backyard. At least James thought it was a backyard, it looked like the one they had on TV. 

He stumbled back and fell on his butt when the suit’s power disengaged. He turned onto his hands and knees and clunkily crawled back to his feet. Daddy made this look much easier. 

Reaching out, he wiggled his arms and fingers, trying to assess his range of motion. He turned and looked up at the house he was at. There had to be a reason his flight plan landed him here. He couldn’t think of anyone in Harrisburg, Pennsylvania. The homes around him looked like regular houses from the TV. They weren’t really expensive but still nice. 

“Why are we here Edwin?” James questioned. 

“My code does not allow me to know the destination to prevent potential threats finding the location you are secured at, and the Internet has proven fruitless.”

“Okay, thanks for trying,” James said. He waited outside for a few minutes, hoping something would happen. “Do you… Are my daddies okay?” 

Edwin was silent for a moment before answering. “News reports show them both alive and continuing the fight, as are the rest of the Avengers.”

James nodded his head. “Okay, fold away the suit.” 

He could feel the pieces moving before slowly peeling down and into a box, he pushed the box against the house and jogged up the steps of the back porch to look inside. He climbed onto a potted plant and looked through the window, there was no one in but the house was pretty, clean and pleasantly lived in. 

He hopped down, knocking over the pot as he went. Dirt went everywhere. He pushed the flowers back into the pot and tried to scoop the dirt back in. He heard movement inside and he dashed down the stairs, wrapping an arm around the box and hiding in the bushes. 

“Who’s out here? I’m armed, come out now.” The man’s voice sounded familiar but it wasn’t a voice he knew.

James stayed quiet, and bit his arm, trying to keep from crying. “Reengaging the suit,” he heard Edwin murmur before he was swallowed once more by the armor.

“Come out from the bushes, little guy,” he heard once more, gently this time. 

James looked out from beneath the bushes before crawling out again. He had faith now that a bullet couldn’t hurt him.

“Smokies,” he heard. He looked up at the older man, it was… Uncle Phil?

“Are you James Stark?” the man asked, crouching down to his level. His gun set carefully on the porch. 

He shook his head, he was James Stark-Rogers. “No. Who are you?”

“You’re telling me, that a tiny little boy, in a functioning Iron Man suit, is not Iron Man’s son?” He could tell the older man was trying not to laugh. 

James shook his head again. 

“Okay, well then, I’m Jonathan Coulson. You might know MY son, Phil Coulson or my son in law, Clint Coulson. Who are you?”

“Edwin,” he answered instantly. 

“Do you know Phil or Clint?” Jonathan asked. 

He thought about it for a second before shaking his head again. “I don’t know them… Can I see some identification?”

The older man was definitely smothering his laughter at him now. “Okay, I’m going to go holster my gun and you wait here. I’ll go get my badge and driver’s license.” 

A few moments later and an older lady came to the door, her identification held out. “You must be James,” she said with a bright smile. 

He looked at the lady, then the ID; Edwin quickly did a search for him and confirmed that she was in fact Mrs. Coulson, Uncle Phil’s mom. The man was back and Edwin confirmed the badge number and ID to belonging to one Jonathan Phillip Coulson, retired Boston PD. 

“Disengage the suit,” he ordered Edwin.

“I’m going to go check the news,” Phil’s dad said going back into the house. “Get him inside and a hot meal. Lock the doors.” He jogged away with a quick pace. 

“Do you remember us?” she asked kindly. “You were the ring bearer at Phil’s wedding. You were such a little cutie.” 

James shook his head. “I don’t remember you.”

“Well, we remember you. You probably don’t know why you’re here, huh?” she asked. 

He shook his head again. 

“Can I take you inside and explain?”

“I need my box,” James answered. She lifted it in one arm and held out the other for James, guiding him into the house. 

She sat the box at his feet, as he sat the kitchen table. 

The lady sat down in front of him. “I’m going to tell you something very important: get that suit back on the second anything strange happens. Don’t hesitate; don’t wait for us to ask for you to do it. Get it back on.”

He nodded. “You’re here because your daddies realized that your home might not be safe sometimes. He set up some safe places with people he knew, people that could help protect you.” 

“Am I going to go home?” he asked, his bravery starting to fracture.

She smiled. “Of course… It’s just going to take some time. When your parents feel it’s safe, they’ll come get you.”

“Now, you’re hungry?” she asked, standing and going to the refrigerator. 

“I’m starving… Uncle Clint was…” he sobbed once, biting his lip hard and stuffing his hands in his lap. 

The lady came around the table and picked him up, hugging him to her chest. She rubbed his back and rocked him… humming a nonsensical melody. 

“He was… going to make breakfast…” he choked. 

“You’re safe now and your family can fight and then they’ll come home, it will be okay.” She walked over to the refrigerator and pulled out a big thing of rice. “Phil loved sweet rice in the morning for breakfast…. I just happen to have rice and I can make you some sweet rice right now. It’s not as good as cooked normally but it’s close.”

She balanced the boy on one hip while she scooped rice and poured evaporated milk, brown sugar, cinnamon, and a scoop of butter into the bowl. Setting it into the microwave to cook. 

She kept talking, lulling James into a restful state. 

“Mrs. Coulson?” James asked. “Is there any more information about the fight? My daddies?”

Mr. Coulson came in a second later. “Nothing yet, James.”

“Call me Abby, James,” Mrs. Coulson corrected. “And that’s John. You need to eat and we’re going to go secure the house.”

She pushed the bowl of hot rice in front of him with a glass of orange juice. 

He watched as John went outside and moved a bench over the spot where he had landed and the two small footprints. He swept up the dirt and closed the backdoor, drawing the blinds all around them. He barred the back door; James could see he had his gun in a holster now. 

Abby was closing the blinds to the outside and talking to someone on the phone. It sounded like she was cancelling plans. 

He finished off most of the bowl before getting down and towing his box suit behind him. On the side table was a picture of Uncle Clint and Uncle Phil at their wedding. He touched their faces with the tip of a finger. There were photos of other people too, people that kind of looked like Uncle Phil or maybe Uncle Phil when he was little. 

“Do you want to see a picture of Phil when he was your age?” Abby asked. 

James nodded and climbed onto the couch beside her, she pulled out a thick book. 

“This is Phil’s brother, John Junior. And these are his sisters Jayne, Liz, and the twins Emma and Erin… and that is Phil.”

James smiled down at the book on his lap, his feet just hanging over the edge of the couch. “He’s so little.”

“Phil was always something else. Here he is dressed up like your dad for Halloween!”

The little boy looked closer at the picture. “That looks like Poppa’s uniform.”

She nodded. 

“Oh, Lord, she got out the book,” John muttered walking by.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hanging with the X-men

James fell asleep on the couch after an hour of looking at pictures. He awoke when he heard a knock on the door. Abby grabbed him blanket and all and rushed him upstairs with his suit while John went to answer the door. 

“Put your suit on,” she commanded. He had it on in seconds; she turned and stood in front of him, braced for something coming up the stairs. 

A few moments later they heard the door close and John shouted some odd words up the stairs that had Abby relaxing again. “You can take your suit off,” she said. 

“It was a pest control salesman,” John said, coming up the stairs. 

James’ suit folded down to its box form again and he looked at the Coulsons. “Can I see the battle on TV?” he asked. 

Abby shook her head instantly. “No, you’re too young.”

Later that night, James was put to bed in Uncle Phil’s old room, it was a teenager’s room but there was splash of his childhood in the Captain America poster. 

He waited until the dead of night before engaging his suit. 

“Edwin, bring up video of the battle,” James commanded. 

Edwin hesitated. “Sir, the video is not…”

“I want to see it, Edwin. Pull it up now.”

The display lit up with poorly shot videos of helicopters attacking his home. He saw his daddy draw off the attack a few times before his poppa engaged into the fight, along with the Hulk, Hawkeye, and Black Widow. They drew the fight away from New York and towards the river and ocean, the lizard monster snapping at their heels. The clips of video followed them. 

He watched as Poppa was hit once again, falling into Daddy’s arms, the pair nearly careening into the water. The Mandarin was believed to be behind the attacks according to the lady speaking. 

Suddenly, it cut away to his Daddy and the quinjet following the retreating helicopters into the distance. 

“Show me the news people,” James said. 

The display cut to a young woman with his home in the background. 

“We are live at the base of the Avengers Tower, early surveyors say the tower is still intact and stable, merely in need of repair but city officials have asked onlookers to keep their distance until public safety is assured of everyone’s safety. The city has suffered cosmetic damage. The Mandarin is believed to have been the attacker. The whereabouts of the Avengers is still unknown, as are the whereabouts of young James Stark-Rogers. Authorities are asking anyone with information to contact…”

“Turn it off, Edwin,” James said. “Fold up the armor.”

“Yes, sir,” Edwin said. “May I recommend you wear the communicator? Just for emergency purposes.”

James nodded and kept the communicator instead of allowing it to be folded into the suit. He curled back up on the bed and wondered what was going to happen to him. 

In the morning, he hadn’t slept very well and had to hasten to the bathroom. Abby was sitting just outside the door when he exited and he gave her a nervous smile as he all but ran for the bathroom. 

When he came out he asked Abby if she had heard from his parents or his family.

“No, sweetie. They’ll call when they can,” she soothed. 

James nodded and came downstairs with her. “The house is alarmed so don’t open any windows or doors right now. Make sure the suit stays with you today.”

“How long will I stay here?” he asked as she started making breakfast. 

She sighed. “Curious little guy aren’t you… You’ll stay for today and tomorrow we are going to move you if needed.”

He nodded, thinking it over as she cooked sausage, eggs, and toast. 

He smiled and thanked her for breakfast. He knew better than to tell her he didn’t like cheese on his eggs. When she wasn’t looking he pushed the cheese topping away. Uncle Bruce made sure he had fruit on his plate for breakfast. Uncle Clint would make him sausage and eggs on toast but he made them into little sandwiches. James loved that. When he folded his own eggs into toast with a sausage topping it didn’t look the same. He took a bite and it didn’t taste the same either. He put on a brave face though and ate it. 

At the table by himself, he couldn’t help but miss the sound of his daddy’s loud laughs, Poppa’s quieter chuckles, the scrape of Aunty Tasha sharpening her knives, Uncle Thor’s booming voice, the thunk of Uncle Clint as he dropped from the vents (only when he wanted you to hear it), the gentle murmuring of Uncle Bruce, and the annoyed huffs of Uncle Phil. He missed his family. 

Quickly he wiped his nose but buried his face in his arms anyway. 

James stayed quiet the rest of the day, sleeping on and off, awaiting any and all news. When they started to get dinner ready he felt himself start to fall apart. Edwin told him every hour on the hour that nothing had changed about where the Avengers were. 

“Come to dinner, buddy!” John shouted. It wasn’t Uncle Bruce calling him to dinner. It was a stranger. 

He felt the tears well and fall without his permission, before he fell apart completely. 

“I want my daddies,” he cried, dropping to the floor in a ballet split, putting his face on the floor. 

“I know, buddy,” John said kneeling beside him. “Your daddies will be back as soon as they can.”

James only cried harder, sobbing into his t-shirt. It wasn’t even his t-shirt it was one of their grandsons’ shirts. He wanted to go home. 

Eventually he calmed and sat at the table picking at dinner. Abby helped him take a bath and put him in bed.

“Edwin… do you have… recordings of my daddies?” 

“Yes, sir. Recordings of your parents are available on my server. I have one of them in the lab or the recordings they made when you were… young.”

James okayed that one and listened as his Daddy and Poppa spoke intermixed with a few words from the rest of his family. He laughed as his Uncle Clint explained to him about the taco stand near SHIELD headquarters. 

He finally slept all the way until morning but was still saddened to hear nothing from his parents. 

John was sitting outside his door this morning and he smiled at the man before trotting downstairs. 

It was midmorning and halfway through a cartoon when the phone in John’s pocket rang. The man had it out and to his ear a second later. 

“Hello?”

James sat up and watched curiously. 

“Yes… safe, completely fine but understandably upset… how are you?”

James stood up on the couch, they were talking about him. 

“Is it my Poppa?” he asked, quietly. 

John shook his head. He spoke to the person on the phone for a few minutes, making plans to do something. Finally he started to say, “He’ll want to talk to you… here he is…”

He snatched the phone from John’s hand. “Hello?”

“How are you, James?” Uncle Phil asked. 

“Uncle P’il,” James said, starting to cry. “Where are you? Can I come home? Where’s my daddies?” He sniffled and wiped his nose as he sat back down, clutching the phone.

“I can’t come for you yet, James. Your daddies are still fighting. It’s not safe for you here, someone attacked and they got information from SHIELD. I’m sending some people to come pick you up. They’ll take you to a safe place and protect you until we can come get you. You are going to be a brave boy for me, right?”

James nodded, even though Uncle Phil couldn’t see him. “I can.”

“Okay, just promise me you’ll stay with the people we are leaving you with and do what they tell you to. I have to go now.”

“No, stay with me,” he begged. 

“Be brave,” Uncle Phil reminded him. “I love you and your parents love you.”

“Please…” he asked one more time.

He could hear his uncle sigh through the phone. “Be brave.”

“I will.” Then he was holding a quiet phone again. He threw himself into the couch cushions and tried not to cry again. He was getting really tired of crying. 

John and Abby explained that they were going to move him to a more secure home, one that was large and would be better able to protect him. James nodded his head, ready to go. 

Abby packed him a lunch and they waited for the doorbell to ring. At the door was a tall, thin man and his complete opposite, a short, well-built man with wild hair. 

“Hey, kiddo,” the short man began when he entered the house. “I’m Logan, that tall guy is called Idiot.”

The taller man frowned, up close you could see his muscle, not as obvious as Logan’s but still there, wrapped around his bones like they were painted on.

“Do not call me idiot, petite. I’m Remy. De short man is just jealous ‘cause I don’ need a stepstool.” He gave James a bright smile, even though his eyes were hidden behind dark sunglasses. 

James laughed a little. 

“Why do you talk like that?” James asked. 

Remy shrugged, “’Cause I’m from N’awlins.”

“Oh, like an accent.” The auburn haired man nodded. 

A moment later they were debating the best way to get James to the car unseen. 

“We’re not rolling him in a carpet, Logan,” John refused. 

Remy looked around the house. “You got some plastic storage? We put him in a plastic bin and carry him out. It’ll look like you’re donating somet’ing. I’ve… removed lots of t’ings from places dat way.” He lifted his glasses to wink at James. 

Convincing James to climb into the plastic bin turned out to be the hard part, they finally promised him an ice cream. Logan carried the plastic bin to the car with Remy trailing behind carrying a suitcase. 

He put the box into the back of the car, popping the lid before closing the trunk of the SUV. James crawled out; the back of the car was tinted, so he was able to safely sit in the backseat. 

Abby and John waved goodbye at him before climbing into their own car to head to a safe house. They drove for a few hours. When they got closer to New York they made sure they got James got his lunch and an ice cream. 

Soon they were driving up a long winding road towards a mansion in the distance. James looked out of the house at they pulled into the garage. 

James climbed out and dragged his suit behind him. He took Remy’s hand without asking, gripping his hand tightly. It reminded him of his parents. Inside the house it was huge and spacious as they climbed the stairs. 

They entered a large office and inside there were some strange people, he recognized one instantly and smiled widely. 

“Dr. M’Coy!” James said with a smile. 

“Hello, young James,” Dr. McCoy, the Beast, answered with a toothy grin. 

“Welcome Mr. Stark Rogers,” a bald man said a moment later. 

James smiled at him, trying to be polite. “Hi,” he greeted the room.

He left Remy and went towards Dr. McCoy, he couldn’t explain the relief he felt when the large man scooped him into his lap. He hadn’t been around a familiar face in days. 

“How are you feeling, James?” the doctor asked, pressing a large, clawed hand to his forehead. 

“Tired,” he said honestly. “I want to go home.”

Dr. McCoy pulled him into his lap a little further. “You will, little one. But for now you will stay with us at our home. Your fathers are currently continuing the fight over in Europe, with the aid of Excalibur.”

“Oh,” James nodded his head. “Are they okay?”

“Yes. We spoke with Excalibur this morning and they were all accounted for.”

A black woman, with shocking white hair and bright blue eyes, crouched in front of him. “And until then we will keep you safely with the us. May I take you to get cleaned up and redressed in some more… appropriate attire?”

James looked down at his saggy sweatpants and ill-fitting t-shirt before nodding his head. His Poppa would not be happy to see him dressed like this, Daddy would like it. The beautiful woman, though still not as beautiful as Aunty Tasha, carried him from the room. 

“I am Ororo Munroe, you have met my friend Remy LeBeau,” she gestured at the man that was following them down the hall.

They went up a lot of flights of stairs before finally stopping at the top of the home. 

“Remy, if you’ll fetch some clothes, 3T if I’m correct, from the extra’s closet, I would appreciate it.”

The man disappeared. 

“Can you bathe yourself?”

He nodded. “Yeah. But I can’t turn on the showers, Jarvis does that for me…”

She escorted him into the bathroom and put things on the floor for him to reach. 

“I will put clean clothes on the counter for you. If you need any assistance, feel free to call out.”

He shrugged out of his clothes and nervously stuck his hand in the water. A little cold but okay. He washed himself as best he could. He had lied a little bit. Poppa or Daddy normally made sure he remembered to clean everything before letting him leave the shower, so he paid attention and tried to do it like Poppa, even cleaning his ears. He shook his head fiercely when water trickled into his ear canal. He scrubbed his fingers through his hair again. 

He stepped out and tugged the towel down, looking over at the clothes left on the counter. He wrapped the towel around himself three times before marching to the door; naked as the day he arrived.

“I can’t do snaps,” he announced when he managed to pull open the door, trying to convey his Daddy’s confidence.

Remy and Ororo were just outside the door waiting patiently. 

“All right, petite,” Remy said, standing and approaching. “Sometimes this stuff is best handled by men.”

Remy flicked his underwear at him, like Uncle Clint would, and James shimmied into them before Remy held out the jeans, yanking them up his legs and quickly snapping them closed. He helped James into a light button up shirt, one like Poppa would make him wear. 

“And finally, de piece de resistance, socks.” He pulled up the cartoon socks; it reminded him that his Poppa hadn’t even had time to put socks on him that morning. 

“Where is my suit?” James asked.

Remy pointed at where it lay next to the wall. “Right there, bebé. And if you need to put it on, do it. Don’ wait.”

James nodded, before yawning. Ororo guided him into a different room across the hall. 

“We have a guest room right through here, if you would like to take a bit of a nap. All you must do to get someone’s help here is to need it. Remy will be in this room,” she pointed to the room next to his. “And I will be across the hall.”

James nodded before climbing into bed and settling down amongst the plush pillows, he was asleep before he had time to think it through.

“Dat’s not right, Professor,” Remy said, turning to the older man just wheeling down the hall. “He shouldn’t have his mind pushed like dat.”

“He was on the edge of exhaustion, Remy. He needed sleep more than anything else. A child this young should not be in a perpetual state of worry. I merely suggested sleep, his body ran with the idea.”

Remy frowned but let it go, heading back to the room he shared with Logan. 

**

James woke late into the afternoon, a pair of red on black eyes staring down at him curiously. 

“How’d you sleep, bebé?”

James scrubbed the sleep from his face before answering, “’Kay. I’m hungry.”

“You’re just in luck den, I’m making jambalaya.” James climbed onto Remy’s back at his bidding and was carted downstairs. 

In the kitchen there were two huge pots boiling on the stove and loaves of fresh bed. 

Remy made him a snack because it would be another hour until dinner. It was bananas with cinnamon; James hesitated but found it was fairly tasty. The man cut him a large slice of sourdough and buttered it for him. 

The redhead chattered on about things while James listened, occasionally responding. Remy let him stir the pots of jambalaya with a long wooden spoon.

Logan, the hairy man from earlier, came in just then, peering into the pot. James giggled when Remy choked suddenly, just like Poppa did when Daddy bopped a feel. 

“Are you married?” James asked, looking at them both.

He saw Logan’s broad hand pull away from Remy’s rear. 

“No, pup.”

“So you’re just doing it?” he asked curiously. 

Logan’s eyes widened for a minute. “What?”

Remy was wheezing with laughter into his sleeve. 

“You know… doing it? You bopped a feel?”

“What is ‘it’ exactly?” Logan asked with a small smile, not correcting James' "bop" term.

“Hugging. Kissing. Clutching on one another. Bopping feels. Poppa says so.”

Logan nodded, his dark hair shifting. “Then yeah, guess we are ‘doing it’, quarter pint.” The man leaned up and kissed Remy’s cheek. 

“Do you know my daddies?” James asked, hoping for some information. 

The man lifted him and set him on a stool at the counter.

“Yes, I know your daddies but I don’t know where they are right now.”

James nods his head. “When did you meet my daddies?”

Logan sighed, settling beside James and popping the cap off his beer on the counter. 

“Your Poppa and I met back in World War II… I think. I met your grandpa there too. It was a long time ago… it was only for a minute. But when you were little, Dr. McCoy and I came to help see if we could help you get better. You were a sick little thing.”

James nodded, taking a chair and pulling it towards the stove. “Yeah. That’s when they made me more like Poppa, because I got sick.”

James wasn’t sure of the entire story but he was both his Daddy’s baby and his Poppa’s baby.

“My Daddy bops a feels when he thinks no one is looking, Uncle Phil does too.”

“I think that’s enough discussion of that,” a red-haired woman said, striding into the room. She paused and crouched in front of James. “I’m Jean, sweetie. Do you want a cookie?” 

James frowned. Babies got cookies to distract them. He was not a baby. “No, I want food. Remy’s making dinner and Poppa said it’s rude to eat when someone is cooking food for you.”

She nodded back. “All right then. This food might be spicy, you sure you don’t want something else?”

James shook his head again. “I have to at least try it.”

Jean straightened from her crouch. “Well I guess you have a fan, Gambit. I’m going to make some pasta with pesto for those with out the same pallet for spicy food.”

“De petite, just know what he like, c’est vrai?” he asked with a laugh looking to the small boy still in his chair. 

“Oui, monsieur. J'aimez la nourriture épicée.”

“That’s beautiful, ‘tite.”

James colored while the food bubbled and Remy quietly sung something in a French dialect, but it wasn’t true French like his daddies spoke. He could only catch every other word. 

Soon he was seated around a table with a lot of people. He ended up seated in Dr. McCoy’s lap, sharing a chair so that he could eat dinner with the others. 

He had been a bit suspicious of the lumps of food first served to him, it looked a bit like borscht, the one Uncle Clint made for Auntie Tasha. He took a few slow bites but liked it the more he ate it, especially the bits of pepper. He took a second small bowl, dipping the bread in at Remy’s insistence. 

Jean tried again to ply him with pasta but he was quite happy with his bowl of jambalaya and waved her away, kicking his feet and bopping his head to a strain of Guns and Roses going on in his head. 

They started a movie, Toy Story 3, for him in the living room and he happily watched while poking around a spare Stark Pad they had. 

He went to bed that night with nary a whine from his throat, Logan and Remy had promised to guard his door and with his recordings of his family’s voices in his ear he passed out soon after. 

The next morning found him outside watching baseball with the mutants, students versus teachers style. He was too small to participate so sat underneath a tree next to a sleeping Logan and watched them play by the lake in the distance. 

“Engage systems,” Edwin said over the line suddenly, swamping him in his suit. He saw claws and heard a choked sound next to him; Logan was pinned to the ground by a large… bear? Cat? A bearcat? Was that a thing? The thrusters engaged and his body was darting away, then he felt a tug and his body hit the ground. 

“Let’s pop this can,” the bearcat growled, a long claw scraped at the faceplate of the suit. 

A second later the bearcat was rammed into and Logan landed on top of him, still bleeding. 

James looked over at the other mutants, the kids running for the house and the adults unleashing their powers at the incoming fighters, a man with flying knives, another that split the ground, and more coming at him. 

Logan growled deep, as he took another large hit. He was trying to fix himself like Poppa but couldn’t get the breath to do it. James lifted his arms and aimed, the following whine turned into a blast that knocked him off his feet but it also knocked the bearcat into a tree. 

Logan scrambled to his feet and charged, shouting over his shoulder, “James get into a tree.” 

The boy climbed up, well Edwin did, and he waited until the bearcat ran from the scene and his friends flew off with a zap. 

Remy was sprinting over a second later, Ororo over his head. “Where is he? Where’s James?”

Logan pointed up, breathing hard. 

“Hey, ‘tite, come on down,” Remy was holding his hands up and Edwin engaged the thrusters so that he could land on the ground. 

Ororo gently knocked on the armor, looking at him. “Are you all right? Nod once if you are.”

“I’m fine,” he answered, letting the speakers project his voice. 

“Come inside,” Jean gestured, “Don’t take the suit off yet.” He clumsily clunked his way to the mansion, letting Edwin do the work.

Once they were all calm and Dr. McCoy had checked him over he was plopped down to watch a movie complete with popcorn. The professor had pulled him aside and calmly explained that, like the Avengers, the X-Men came under attack. He was sorry the boy had been scared by a group called the Marauders but was fortunate to come away unscathed. It was still the safest area for him but until further notice he would not be allowed outside. 

James had stopped asking about his parents the day before. The answer wasn’t changing and he was getting better information from Edwin anyway. Now if he could get Edwin to hack into this Cerebro he would have all the information he needed. He frowned when Edwin simply took his information under advisement. Apparently even A.I.’s didn’t listen to nearly four year olds. 

A phone rang and James thought nothing of it until Remy held the phone in front of his face. “Daddy! Poppa!” James squealed, looking at the slightly battered faces of his fathers. He held the phone in both hands and stared into it. 

“Hi, J-Baby, how are you?” Daddy asked. 

“Fine. Are you coming home?” he asked. 

Poppa shook his head. “Soon, baby, soon. We miss you so much. We just wanted to talk to you. We haven’t had a chance since this whole mess started. Are you okay?”

James nodded. “Yes, I… I miss you. I love you.”

Daddy’s lips tightened in that way that meant he was sad. Poppa took over again. “We love you too, James. We will see you as soon as we can. We have to go now. This line is only secure for another minute.”

“Will you call me again?” James asked. 

Daddy nodded, his words short. “As soon as we can. ‘Love you, punkin. Miss you.”

“Don’t go,” James tried. 

Poppa reached up to touch the phone. “We will be home soon. Everyone wanted to say they love you. We love you. See you soon. Be brave.”

James nodded as the screen went dark. 

He was frowning for a long time at the dark screen.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Epilogue

He spent two more days moping about the premises of the mansion. Most of it was spent in the lab with Dr. McCoy or the gym with a member of the team. He liked to virtually hunt in the forest of Borneo searching for Logan, Remy or another mansion volunteer in the pseudo rainforest projected by the Danger Room. 

It was the wee morning when he heard a faint voice calling for him. “James,” said a soft cultured voice, whispering into his mind, “Please, come to my office. Mr. LeBeau can escort you.”

Remy was still in his own pajamas when he came in, lifting him from the bed and towing him down the halls to the office. 

The door was open and he came fully awake when he saw Poppa’s tall frame facing the Professor’s desk.

“Poppa!!!” he screeched running forward and flinging himself into his Poppa’s arms. “Poppa! I missed you.” He buried his face in his Poppa’s neck, holding tight. 

“Oh, I missed you more, baby boy.” Poppa said, stroking his back and hair. 

“Where’s Daddy?” he asked a moment later. 

Poppa snuggled him closer. “Daddy got hit by a plane so SHIELD is patching him up. He’s fine and waiting for us to come see him. We’re going to stay in Malibu until the tower is fixed. You ready to go?”

“Yes,” James nodded, finally looking away and seeing Uncle Clint standing only a few feet away. “Uncle Clint!”

“Hey, bug!” one of the archer’s broad callused hands reached over Poppa’s shoulders and scraped through his hair. “How you doing?”

James was in Clint’s thick arms a few seconds later when his Poppa passed him over. “I would like to thank you, Professor, for providing a safe haven for my son. It’s… alarming to worry about where he can go in a time of need. Please be aware that we will return the same for you and yours should you need it, hopefully you don’t.”

“You were wise to have a plan in place,” the bald man answered. “Take care of your boy, he’s a special one. I fear Sinister, Nathanial Essex, was a bit too interested but since the boy has no mutant gene he won’t be a consistent target… I hope.”

Clint lifted him onto one hip and James had to adjust, Remy and Ororo had carried him the most the past few days and they were much skinnier than his broad Uncle Clint and even broader Poppa. He snuggled his face into his uncle’s neck and closed his eyes. 

“Here’s his armor,” Remy said as James’ eyes blinked open again. 

“Bye, Remy,” he said. 

Remy gave him a broad grin, one that reminded him of his Daddy’s grins. “Bonsoir, mon petite. Be good for y’ daddies, d’accord?” 

“Mais, oui.”

They said their goodbyes and Poppa thanked anyone that would listen before going to the jet, ready to take them to Malibu. 

Poppa strapped him tightly into his booster seat on the jet. Kissing him no less than three times before going to copilot. They flew far and fast to the other side of the country, landing at a private airstrip. He wasn’t even on the tarmac before he saw Uncle Happy and he ran to meet him at the car. They made it to the house and he ran up the stairs and down the hall… though Poppa was still faster than him with his giant steps. 

Poppa opened the door and he ran to his Daddy’s side. He was sat up in bed and a bit battered but still fiddling with a gauntlet from the suit. 

“Daddy!”

“J-Baby!” he pulled James onto the bed and squeezed him until James was sure his eyeballs were about to pop out. “God, I missed you. Are you okay? Are you hurt? Tired? Hungry?”

“Yes. No. Yes. A little,” he answered all the questions quickly and snuggled himself in the pillows on the bed. He burrowed deep into the pillows and inhaled the smell of his Daddy and Poppa, basking in the flannel blankets. 

Home.


End file.
